


marshmallows don't belong in coffee

by lunarshores (damichan)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Almost Kiss, Fluff, Grocery Shopping, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damichan/pseuds/lunarshores
Summary: prompt: spideypool + someone assumes they're married but they're not even dating (yet)





	

**Author's Note:**

> nanowrimo is kicking my ass, so i took a little break to write some fluff! hope you enjoy!!
> 
> beta'd and prompted by the lovely [ImperialMint](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint) (i think i might be winning her over guys!)
> 
> chinese translation by [chopchopsakurasushi](http://chopchopsakurasushi.tumblr.com/) available [here](http://luffysweetieursosexy.lofter.com/post/1d491e2c_d0f4d2f)

Peter doesn’t know how he got talked into this. He glares at an innocent box of Cheerios. He’s not actually sure he agreed to this now that he thinks about it. A screaming kid runs up the cereal aisle, and Peter lets himself slump against the cart, sending it slowly drifting, dragging him along behind it. It’s far too early for  _ this _ .

A cup of coffee is thrust under his nose, and Peter thinks that maybe he could forgive Wade dragging him out of bed to go grocery shopping before noon, if only it weren’t  _ Saturday _ . The one day a week he didn’t drag himself out of bed in fewer hours after patrol than he liked to think about.

“Why are we even here?” Peter whined, taking the coffee as his due but getting upright enough to actually consume it seemed like too much work. “Grocery stores are  _ evil _ on the weekend.” Another ear splitting squeal proved his point, and he dragged his head up enough to confirm they were still blocked in by the harried-looking mother who was having trouble keeping up with all four of the kids with her and the old man debating between Frosted Mini-Wheats and Cocopuffs. 

“Go for the Cocopuffs, man. Live a little,” Peter said, not loud enough for anyone to hear but Wade, who was for some reason pressed into his side. Peter decided it was too much effort to throw him off. He was warm. Wade sputtered out a laugh.

“Yeah, he doesn’t have time to waste on a healthy colon,” Wade said, and then suddenly the cart was moving, and apparently there was crossover between mercenary skills and being a freaking grocery store  _ ninja  _ because somehow they were in the produce area and their cart was full of who-knew-what. 

He must have said at least the last part out loud because Wade snickered again and slurped loudly at his own coffee. “Too many hours of Fruit Ninja, Petey.”

Peter decided as they pulled up to the deli counter and Wade began weighing the options, it was worth it to lift up enough to take a sip of coffee without choking. He promptly choked anyway, enough that Wade and the poor person at the counter who was trying to help him decide on the optimal thickness of cheese looked at him in alarm. He stood up all the way, glaring at his coffee.

“What the frick, Wade! Are there  _ marshmallows _ on this?”

“Of course, baby boy. Drink up so you stop looking like I slipped you a roofie, people are giving us weird looks.”

“Marshmallows don’t belong in coffee, Wade. That’s just sick and wrong. Against the natural order of the world. How did you even get anyone to make just an atrocity against humanity?”

“Atrocity? It is sheer brilliance I’ll have you know. Why stop at hot chocolate? All hot beverages should come with marshmallows.” Peter took another sip because caffeine and grimaced at the sweet taste. It was wrong. 

“I’m never letting you get the coffee again.”

Wade scoffed. “We both know that’s a lie.” 

Peter had to concede that. He took another drink of his coffee. “He put marshmallows into it,” he told the attendant, and they raised a brow. “Have you ever heard of anything so blasphemous?”

“If it’s so bad why’re you still drinking it?” they asked, and Peter looked down at his mostly empty cup.

“Er...”

Wade slung an arm around his shoulders and grinned. “He loves it. He’s just grumpy I made him go to the store.”

The attendant nodded, eyes dancing, and they turned away to cut the cheese Wade had finally picked. Peter stomped on the obvious joke before it left his lips, but he could tell Wade read it from his facial features by his bright grin. Peter turned to him, but had a hard time mustering up a proper rebuttal---he was  _ not _ grumpy---with Wade grinning at him like an idiot. He’d ditched the mask for this trip, wearing a hoodie and hat, but nothing to conceal his eyes as he grinned at Peter like an unrepentant kid caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

Peter growled. “Why did I have to go shopping with you again? Especially so early!”

“Because there was no food anywhere in the fridge.” Peter’s fridge was empty too, and he probably ought to be buying something since he was already here, but payday was next week, and he really just needed to finish his thesis. There would be time for the niceties of life after that. Though someone just didn’t take no for an answer.

“You can go shopping on your own!”

“I thought you might have preferences.” Wade raised his brows archly and shrugged, his arm dropping from Peter’s shoulders. Why were grocery stores so cold? “Not my fault you spent the whole trip zombified so I ended up picking everything.” 

Peter scowled and finished off his coffee. He was about to point out that Wade should be perfectly capable of picking his own darn food when his eyes caught on his pants. His pyjama pants. His Deadpool knock-off pyjama pants Wade had given to him.

“Why am I wearing my pyjamas still?”

“You refused to get dressed.”

“Because I was sleeping!”

“You were just in denial.”

The person behind the counter chuckled as they finished weighing out the cheese and slapped a sticker on it. “So how long have you two been married?”

They froze, and Peter was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. He sidled away, and something flashed in Wade’s eyes that made Peter regret the distance.

“We’re not---”

“We’re just sorta-friends,” Wade said cheerfully. “When he decides to put up with me.” A protest rose to Peter’s lips because he clearly did not merely  _ put up _ with Wade. There were very few people who could get him in a grocery store on a weekend when nothing was under attack. Sure, he’d complained and whined the whole time, but he’d thought Wade  _ knew _ . Then again Peter was an idiot when it came to people.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you just seem so close.” The clerk’s eyes were wide, and Peter smiled reassuringly at her, and elbowed Wade before he could say anything.

“He’s just being modest. He’s my best friend.” Wade lit up. There were no other words to describe it. The attendant raised a brow.

“Right.”

“We secretly pining for each other, but we don’t know how to confess our intense attraction and deep feelings for each other because we’re both ridiculously fucked up. It’s our thing.”

Peter rolled his eyes, and Wade winked at him. He firmly ignored the way warmth bloomed in his chest, both at the words and the wink. 

“Well, that one I believe.” They handed the cheese over, and Wade dropped it in the overflowing cart next to a ridiculous assortment of deli meats, on top of the pile of every kind of sausage the store had in stock. Peter hadn’t bothered to ask. He didn’t want to know.

The attendant turned to help the next customer, and Peter let Wade steer him and the cart toward the checkout line, shaking his head as Wade threw random fruits he didn’t recognize in the cart along the way, along with a bunch of bananas and assorted cucumbers. He  _ really _ didn’t want to know.

Peter kinda zoned out waiting in line, leaning against Wade as he read out loud from one of the celebrity magazines and commented at length on some award Ryan Reynolds should have earned. He came to when Wade started stacking paper bags in his arms after buying the most random assortment of groceries Peter had ever seen, glaring as something occurred to him.

“You just brought me to help you carry all your groceries home, didn’t you?” Not that Peter really minded (it wasn’t like the weight would bother him) but really?

“I needed to know what you liked!” Wade made the puppy dog face, and Peter rolled his eyes, pretending not to soften as they left the store.

“The only thing you asked me about the whole time was about my condom preferences, and I really fail to see why you’d need my opinion about  _ that _ .”

“Oh, baby boy, I didn’t realize you actually were so blind. I thought the glasses were for show like the little hipster you are.” Before Peter could decide where to begin with that mess, Wade continued. “And I asked you what kind of sausage you like too!”

“No you dropped every single kind into the cart and told me experimenting was healthy in a tone of voice that made sure I’ll never look at sausage in the same way again.”

“Perfect!”

“No---” Peter stopped on a familiar sidewalk. He’d just been blindly following Wade, but now his eyes narrowed. “Why are we headed towards my place?”

He really supposed he should have seen it coming, though as they unpacked increasingly bizarre food items, Peter wondered if really anyone could see this coming. Well, anyone who wasn’t Wade. Warmth curled in his chest because apparently Wade showed he cared by dragging Peter out of bed and forcing him to shop on a  _ Saturday _ and buying every phallic shaped food in the store. Something must be really wrong with Peter because he couldn’t stop smiling dopily as he put away weird fruit he was going to have to look up to figure out how to eat it.

When they were done, Wade started mixing up pancake batter and cooking one of the many kinds of sausage. Peter shook off his bafflement and general sappiness because there really ought to be boundaries.

“Wade, you really shouldn’t---” Peter started, and Wade pressed a finger to his lips. Peter capitulated instantly because, really, he knew better than to argue when Wade’s pancakes were on the line.

“Of course I should. I broke into your apartment to make you breakfast and you had no food. You need to take better care of yourself, even if you are busy getting a doctorate like the nerd you are.”

Peter was very conscious of the heat of the gloved finger still pressing into his lips, of the warmth that radiated off Wade that made Peter want to take that last step forward, of the way Wade’s eyes softened at the corners when they stood like this, an expression Peter never saw any other time. Wade’s eyes held his, something sparking between them, electrifying. They teetered on the edge of  _ something, _ and yeah, even Peter wasn’t stupid enough not to recognize the heat that simmered between them. 

He inhaled a shuddery breath, Wade’s finger slipping to just his bottom lip, and for just a moment, Peter had to fight down the urge to suck it into his mouth, just to see Wade’s eyes widen, too see the shock on his face. To see it melt into something hotter.

Then Wade’s hand dropped, and he turned back to the stove muttering about burning the sausages, which hadn’t even started to sizzle yet. Peter grinned, a heady wave of power making his head spin.

“Do you think it’s almost time to get a new thing?” Wade looked at him, tilting his head in confusion.

“A new thing?”

“Yeah, you know, what you told the store clerk. The pining thing?”

Wade’s eyes widened almost comically and he swallowed. 

“Oh.”

“Because I’ve been thinking it might almost be time for a new thing.”

Wade’s lips twitched and then he was beaming in a way that made Peter’s heart do somersaults and made him want to say screw “almost” and march right over there and pull Wade down for a real kiss. But then the sausages might actually burn. Wade must have had similar priorities because his eyes darted to the stove, and he turned back around.

“I don’t know, Petey,” he said, and Peter had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at his arch tone. “That was the worst marriage proposal ever.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he snorted.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” he said, with a smirk he was pretty sure Wade could hear, facing him or not. Wade dropped the spatula he’d been using to dish up breakfast, and Peter pretended not to notice. Nothing had changed, and yet every little gesture was charged with promise. 

Wade cleaned up despite Peter’s protests, sending him to go work on his thesis, and when he’d finished, he sidled up to the back of Peter’s chair, trying to sneak up on him so obviously Peter had to hold back a laugh.

“Almost, huh?” he whispered in Peter’s ear, and Peter stomped on the shudder that formed, instead tilting his head back to rest on Wade’s shoulder, so he could meet his eyes. Which had dropped to trace the line of his neck.

“You know you can’t sneak up on me, Wade.” Wade pouted, a moment, and Peter laughed. 

“Unfair!” Wade said and crossed his arms over his chest and Peter turned around properly in the chair.

“Dork.”

“I love you too, babe.” They both froze a moment at the words that suddenly seemed much bigger than they had yesterday. Wade cleared his throat and went over to open the window, pausing with one foot on the sill. “I’ll see you on patrol tonight?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, and Wade grinned at him, sending Peter’s heart stampeding again, before he leaped out.

When he’d left, the apartment felt empty. Peter stared blankly at his screen for a moment, then shook himself and got up to refill his coffee.

The fridge was full of oddities, but eventually, Peter found the cream, in the back scrunched up by a strange spiky orange... melon-thing Wade had picked out.

After eyeing it a moment, Peter closed the fridge. He really needed to get started on thesis, not stare at weird fruit. If he got enough done, he’d invite Wade over for dinner tomorrow and make him deal with it. With that decided Peter finally poured himself another cup of coffee and settled to it.

And if he put some marshmallows (why were they pink and heart-shaped?) on top, well, no one had to know.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love some more prompts for spideypool if you guys have any! just shoot me an ask on [my tumblr](lunarshores.tumblr.com/ask)!!


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